Perhaps, Once
by Gabriel Gatsby
Summary: Scorpius learns that, perhaps, he can be more than just a Malfoy.
1. Antagonistic Alice

His heels click on the hard floor tiles as he makes his way down the narrow corridor. The walls of the spell damage ward are spotlessly white, giving the place a distinctly clinical feel. Apparently it makes the patients feel calmer.

It makes him feel dirty.

He casts a quick, wandless cleansing charm, lest his robes be harbouring any harmful bacteria that could creep out and stain the perfect sea of cleanliness. He supposes OCD is a quirk he inherited from his father—or, perhaps more accurately, was taught by his father.

He counts the doors as he passes them, taking in the hard steely lettering on each one that denotes the room's number. It's the only thing not white, and it draws his eye like a hawk's.

223… 224… 225…

He's looking for room 421, which a pretty young healer had insisted was this way, but he's already been walking for twenty minutes. Surely there must be a quicker route?

He's still thinking this, when a little further down the corridor, a door clicks open and a male healer steps out with an elderly patient on his arm. He watches as they begin to shuffle slowly towards him, the man chatting away, while the woman stares off into the blank white—an equally as blank expression on her face. He wonders if she's all there, and considers asking the healer directions, as they continue to draw steadily closer. They're perhaps a few metres away, when without warning, the woman suddenly looks up…

And then she screams.

It's a horrible, wailing, warbling screech that cuts the air and grates against Scorpius' hearing. Frail she may have seemed from a distance, but her reaction now is violent and forceful. Thrusting herself from the arms of the healer, she throws herself at the wall, her face contorted in horror. Between the frightful, heart-wrenching cries, she babbles barely comprehensible words, and shakes her head from side to side as though attempting to dispel some evil spirit.

"No… no, please, no…" she murmurs. "Please, no more… no more!"

Now closer, he realises that what he thought were wrinkles lining her face, are actually a network of gnarly scars, littering her skin. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks, following the fine white lines, and she screws her eyes shut tight. Whatever she sees behind her lids, though, must be worse than the present reality, because a moment later they're flying open again to fix directly on Scorpius.

"Please, no more…" she begs him, her eyes swimming with desperation. The healer is murmuring soft words of reassurance, but she doesn't seem to hear them.

"Now, Alice. It's okay," he coos. "No one's trying to hurt you. It's all over now. You're in St Mungo's—your home. Come on, look at me, now."

She doesn't look at him, though. Those pained eyes are still fixed on Scorpius, and suddenly, with a horrible dawning realisation that leaves him feeling sick to his stomach, he knows why.

* * *

 _Written for: the 'War of Angels' Competition. Prompts: (main character) Scorpius, (characters) Dominique, James, Alice, Andromeda, Angelina, (themes) platonic, romantic, parental, antagonistic, mentorship, 500 words per chapter_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

 _CC cover image (entitled 'Rho Oph Cloud Star Forming Region') courtesy of Image Editor on Flickr._

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, so the challenge for this comp was to write a five piece drabble collection, using Scorpius as my main character, with one of each the given sub characters and one of each of the themes per drabble. I could choose which characters to use for which theme, but the collection had to be connected. It was actually really difficult! I really struggled to fit some of the characters in, as they were pretty random...

Hopefully it didn't come out too bad, though. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading.

GG x


	2. Platonic James

Scorpius leans heavily against the outer wall of St Mungo's, letting the hard rock bite into his shaking palms as he tries desperately to regain some composure.

He had all but run from the hospital, as soon as he could uproot his feet, and tear his eyes away from the tortured face of Alice Longbottom. His stomach churns unpleasantly, and he swallows against the bile that threatens to rise. He knows all about the First and Second Wizarding Wars. He had made a point of learning exactly why his family is victimised so, including all of the accusations laid down against them. He knows who the casualties were.

But he hadn't expected to actually _meet_ one.

People always did say he looked just like his grandfather.

Screwing his eyes shut, he retches, but even with them closed he can still see the lines criss-crossing her broken skin, and recall the way she shook with fear. At him. Because of him. Because of his family.

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he shoves himself away from the wall, and lets his feet carry him away from the hospital. He doesn't pay attention to where he's going, instead focusing on recollecting his frayed nerves, and calming his racing heart. He breathes the cool evening air deep into his lungs, and feels it sooth his burning throat.

So absorbed he is, though, that he doesn't notice the footsteps echoing his own until it's too late. A spell cast from behind hits him square in the back, and he barely has time to panic before his wand flies from his pocket. Heart hammering in his chest once more, he swallows hard, before curling his fingers into tight fists and slowly turning on his heel.

"Malfoy," his attacker smirks, wand in hand and lackeys in tow. He recognises three of the four as Hogwarts students, from a year or two above, perhaps... he's not sure, but he's met with their brutal punishments before, and that kind of thing is hard to forget.

Finding that, once again, he has no other choice, Scorpius releases a trembling breath, and braces himself against the coming storm.

* * *

"Oh, Merlin, not again… What the hell happened?" James asks, rushing towards him, concern plastered all over his face.

Scorpius sees him grimace, as he takes in the damage, then a strong hand is wrapping around his upper arm, and James is asking him if he thinks he can stand. He doesn't reply, but struggles with his weakened limbs, attempting to get his feet beneath him.

He stumbles as the alleyway sways, but James is there, wrapping strong arms around him; keeping him up.

"We need to get you to St Mungo's," James says, but despite his blurring vision, Scorpius still finds the strength to shake his head in vehement disagreement.

"No… not there," he mumbles, through bloodied lips.

"Then where?" James asks.

Scorpius thinks, and manages to utter his request, trusting his best friend to understand, before unconsciousness claims him.

"'Droma…"


	3. Mentor Andromeda

Scorpius blinks into consciousness, and as his vision clears, the room around him slowly comes into view. He's lying on something soft and warm, and as he tilts his head to the side and takes in the familiar surroundings, he realises it must be the couch—because this is the living room.

Everything aches, but even so, he can't help the small contented sigh that escapes him. Ever since he was little, something about his Aunty 'Droma's house had always made him feel safe, and he was beyond relieved to find himself here, and not in St Mungo's.

"Awake, are we?" a familiar voice speaks behind him, and craning his neck, he attempts to sit up so he can see her.

"No, no! Stay where you are," she instructs. "I'm not done with you, yet."

Coming round, she stands beside the couch with her hands on her hips, in that way she has.

"Aunty," he smiles in greeting.

"Scorpius," she says, although she doesn't return the smile.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what happened, are you?" she asks, her brows knitting together in a concerned frown. Scorpius hesitates, before shaking his head reluctantly. He would have liked to tell her everything—he usually did—but this was something he could not share with family. If his father found out, he would be furious. Malfoys simply did not get beat up. They did not get bullied.

They were not, ever, victims.

"Okay," is all she says, and he smiles again, grateful for her understanding. There's a long moment of comfortable silence, during which she checks his various wounds, tutting occasionally, but mostly humming in approval. Eventually, he speaks again.

"How did you do it?" he asks, and she looks up, her eyes hard.

"Do what?"

"You know… leave the family… become a Tonks."

"I got married," she says, tersely.

"To a _Muggle-born._ Please, Aunty, you know what I mean."

Sighing, she sits back, and observes him contemplatively for a moment, before speaking.

"Family is important, Scorpius—never forget that," there's a pause, before she continues.

"... _But_ , equally as important, is your own happiness. You must learn to be yourself, even if that's not what _everyone_ wants. Those who truly love you will learn to accept you as you are."

Something hard twinkled in her eyes as she said it, and Scorpius couldn't help but wonder exactly what did happen, all those years ago… but her words lifted a weight off his shoulders all the same, and feeling lighter than he has in a long time, he smiles up at her once more.

"Thank you, Aunty."

"My pleasure, as always."


	4. Parental Angelina

Before he'd left his great aunt's house, almost entirely recovered, she'd passed him a small piece of parchment covered in his best friend's familiar hand. Aside from wishing him well, the short missive had invited him to dinner at Fred and Roxanne Weasley's, that evening.

Dinner at the Weasley's, he thought to himself. Whatever would his father think?

He had to admit, though, that the timing seemed impeccable. His aunt's advice still burned in the forefront of his mind, and he had to wonder whether this had really been James' idea at all. It wouldn't be the first time his aunt had somehow tailored events to unravel as she saw fit.

Thus far, he had gone to great pains to conceal his friendship with James from his parents, and avoided getting overly friendly with anyone else from the Potter-Weasley clan, so that he might better avoid discovery.

Maybe it was finally time to stop trying.

With a heavy sigh, he tucks the parchment into his robe pocket, and Apparates home.

Today certainly was turning out to be one of those days.

* * *

Scorpius stands in the hallway of George and Angelina Weasley's modest home, feeling like a blood stain on a white rug; he couldn't be more out of place if he tried. After a moment, Mrs Weasley pokes her head around the door frame to smile at him brightly.

"Scorpius, hun. You don't have to stay in the hall. Come in!"

Somewhat reluctantly, he follows her through into the kitchen, where pots and pans clink and clatter away on a busy stove. In her apron, she has a distinctly motherly air, which is only further compounded when she begins fussing over him in a way his own mother never would.

"Can I get you anything to drink? James mentioned you'd had a bit of a rough day, a drop of Pick-Me-Up, perhaps? Here, take this... there's a jug of lemonade on the side over there, help yourself…" she chatters, whilst absently checking various pots.

"Looks like we're about there," she says a moment later, before spelling her voice to carry, and booming loudly at the back door, "DINNER TIME, KIDS!"

There's a bang, then James, Fred and Roxanne are all rushing into the kitchen, whilst veg, meat and more begin to serve themselves.

"I'm _starving,_ " Fred moans, on arrival.

"Smells good, Mum," Roxanne says, sniffing the air.

"Hey, Scorp, looking better." James smiles, and cuffs him playfully on the arm.

For a moment, Scorpius feels completely at a loss. What is he doing here? He is a Malfoy. This isn't his place. These aren't his people.

Or are they?

Looking around, Scorpius finds that in this cramped, busy, hot kitchen… he feels more at home than he has ever felt before, in the Manor. Then, looking at the freckled faces of the Weasleys, and the cheeky grin of his best friend, he realises there is no one else he would rather be with, at this moment.

Warm happiness swells in his chest. Yes, he is a Malfoy—but perhaps, just maybe, he can be something more, too.

Perhaps, just maybe, he can be himself.


	5. Romantic Dominique

She's beautiful.

He watches her stare out across the Hogwarts grounds, as she chatters easily away, speaking of her day, how classes went, and her plans for that evening… and all he can think about is how stunning she looks right now, with the setting sun reflected in her eyes, and her golden-blonde hair framing her face like a halo.

He must have a pretty stupid expression on his own face, he realises, as she turns to look at him and laughs. Once, he might have cared, for Malfoys are not to be laughed at, or to gawp at Veela half-breeds… but not any more. Instead, he smiles with her, and laces his fingers into hers.

"You're not listening to me at all, are you?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Hm?" he says, watching the way her lips move as she speaks.

At that, she pretends to pout petulantly, and he smiles once more.

Perhaps, once, he would have worried. He would have wondered what his father would think. He would have reminded himself that he is a Malfoy, and that Malfoys do not kiss Weasleys…

But not any more.

Leaning forwards, he hears her hum in approval as his own lips meet with her impossibly soft ones. He breathes her in, and smells the sweet scent of wild flowers. She wraps her fingers gently about his neck to pull him closer, and he lets her.

Perhaps, once… but that was before he met her. Before he met himself.

And those times are gone.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, that's it! Thanks if you read all five chapters, please do let me know what you thought :) GG x


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